


What You Don't Know (Can't Hurt You)

by GreenRogue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Dean Winchester, Caring Castiel (Supernatural), Caring Dean Winchester, Caring Gabriel (Supernatural), Caring Mary Winchester, Confused Jack Kline, Dean Winchester Hates Witches, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Gen, Good Parent Mary Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, Witches curse, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24654427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenRogue/pseuds/GreenRogue
Summary: In hide sight, the three of them could agree going on this hunt right now was not the best of ideas. Dean and Sam were still getting back into the swing of things after Michael, and Castiel was more concerned with Jack now back at the bunker, but when duty called—and all that jazz—An unknown witches curse hits the boys where it hurts, leaving the rocky boat adrift in the sea. Sam hears some of the darkest truths of those closest around him and the others fear they'll lose him forever
Comments: 23
Kudos: 118
Collections: Sam Winchester WHUMP





	1. Truth hurts. Maybe not as much as jumping on a bicycle with a seat missing, but it hurts

**Author's Note:**

> 4 part mini series, we've got 4 chapters planned  
> Ch 1: Dean's POV  
> Ch 2: Castiel's POV  
> Ch 3: Gabriel's POV  
> Ch 4: Sam's POV
> 
> Slight AU, we're after Michael, Jack doesn't have his soul but Gabriel is around. No real timeline here, just a little snippet of time.
> 
> As always I do not own SPN or the characters, I just like to play with them

* * *

**Dean**

In hide sight, the three of them could agree going on this hunt right now was not the best of ideas. Dean and Sam were still getting back into the swing of things after Michael, and Castiel was more concerned with Jack now back at the bunker, but when duty called—and all that jazz—

“Fucking witches—” Dean muttered again as he tried to saw through the binds against his wrists. Sam was just out of eyesight behind Dean and had been quiet for far longer than Dean felt comfortable with. He had tried calling out to his brother several times after he became conscious, but so far Cas said he was still laying unresponsive. Resting a moment to catch his breath, Dean tried to twist his body again to get an eye line on his little brother. “How’s he doin’ Cas? Any movement?” Cas was against the far wall, a ring of holy fire burning steadily, holding him securely to Dean’s utter annoyance.

“No Dean, no change from the last time you asked, or the time before that. When you said you had a plan, I did not imagine it would have included being captured so easily.” Dean attempted to throw one of Sam’s famous bitch faces at the angel but was soon preoccupied by the approaching steps from above them. He strained against the fraying rope before collapsing back as the cellar door opened, blinding him with a sudden burst of sunlight. He squinted at the approaching figure and scowled as it moved past him towards his brother.

“Hey, hey ugly—don’t you lay a hand on him. You hear me? Hey!” The person ignored him and for a moment it was quiet before Dean heard the telltale noise of a switch blade being opened. Cas was standing at the edge of the fire ring, his eyes a steady glowing blue as he tried to make out what the witch was doing with Sam. The sound of an unconscious grunt of pain spurred Dean to yank on the ropes harder, he could feel the rough material cutting into his wrists as it frayed against the old wood.

**“ _Voluntarie revelationi tenebris, dimittere te dolore ad Achus dei. Dominus noster pascere_ —”** Another muffled scream before one of Dean’s hands finally broke free from the bindings and he scrambled towards Cas to break the circle and extinguish the flames. His eyes searched the dark cellar frantically for their weapons while Cas raced towards Sam’s side. The sounds of a struggle intensified as Dean spotted their duffels and one of the guns. He grabbed his weapon, spinning on knees as he shouted “Cas down!” In a split second the witch was spun as Cas stumbled away and covered Sam’s shaking form. A single shot rang out then all was still.

Dean watched impassively as the witches’ body slumped to the floor before he lurched towards a table, and his overgrown brother tied on top. Blood was seeping down the sides of his bare chest as Cas struggled to release the ropes binding him. Dean let his gun clatter to the floor as he reached for his brother’s face. Sam’s eyes were vacant hazel orbs as they stared unseeing towards the ceiling, Dean let his thumbs caress against his cheeks as he shook him gently.

“Sam—Sam can you hear me? Hey, hey—Sammy--?” Sam’s eyes focused slowly and for a second Dean though he saw a flash of yellow before they focused on his face. He stared into Sam’s eyes, waiting for a reaction when he felt a strong pulling urge—

“I meant every word I said to you when I was under the influence of the cursed penny—wait what the hell—” Sam’s eyes seemed clearer now as a slow look of confusion (and no small amount of hurt) was focused towards his brother. Dean let go of his face and took a few steps back and shook his head.

‘ _Where the hell did that come from?’_ He didn’t help as Cas eased Sam up into a sitting position slowly, his brother grunting the entire way.

“Sam, stay still a moment while I take a look at your wounds.” Cas broke Dean’s line of sight as he inspected the cuts on Sam’s chest. He still hadn’t said anything to Dean’s strange outburst, and he hoped Sam was still too out of it to recall what he said. Feeling fidgety, Dean went back over to their duffels and pulled out the salt and gas to take care of the witches’ body when he heard Cas speak up.

“I only saved you from the cage to distract Dean while I opened purgatory. Why did I say that?” Dean looked up to see Cas staring at the ground in confusion, and Sam’s injured form hunching in on itself. The markings on his chest were still bleeding slowly and Dean scrunched his face in confusion.

“Cas, why aren’t you healing those? We gotta get out of here before someone shows up and when Sam is injured, I’m more distract than usual because his stupid stubborn ass doesn’t take care of himself—wait I didn’t—what the hell is goin’ on?” Cas was staring at him with his customary tilt of the head confusion, while Sam was clenching his discarded shirt to his injured chest, eyes sparkling with furious tears. Finally, his croaky voice broke the steadily growing tension.

“I think—uh, I think the witches’ spell is still in effect. I didn’t catch all the words but, something about truth—and the uh— I heard Algae—the children of pain, uh dammit”. Sam winced as he shifted his weight and slowly stood next to Cas. Sam waved off the helpful hands and pointedly stared at the floor while Dean shook his head in agitation and resumed salting and burning the body.

“We ganked the bitch, shouldn’t the spell have worn off? What’s it supposed to do anyway?” Dean’s temper was flaring in between bouts of big brother worry. Sam’s face was gray and drawn tight against the pain from the cuts on his chest. Cas carefully insisted he help and pulled the dirty blood stained shirt from Sam’s grasp. The blood was slowly, sluggishly, trickling to a stop. He placed a gentle hand on Sam’s collar bone and Dean felt the underlying tension ease away at the bright blue healing light. He turned to gather their discarded duffels but paused when he heard an impatient huff behind him.

“I don’t understand—there’s no magic left, I should be able to heal you.” Grabbing the heavy bags, Dean turned back to see Cas staring exasperatedly at Sam’s wounds which were still red and angry looking on his chest. Sam had his eyes clenched shut tightly and shook his head while taking a deep breath.

“Maybe it has something to do with the curse? Let’s just—let’s get back to the bunker. I’ll be fine.” Dean felt another wave of **wrong** shiver up his spine and before he could stop himself—

“Yeah sure Sam, the last time you were fine was when I let you walk away to Stanford—Fuck—“. Dean could almost physically see the crack of hurt forming in his brother’s eyes as Sam turned away with a shake of his head. He snatched the bloody shirt from Cas’s loose grip and attempted to cover the markings as he shuffled towards the cellar stairs.

“How about we make a deal guys—you don’t talk to me until we get back to the bunker and figure this out—and Cas can sit up front while I pass out for a bit.” They both nodded towards Sam’s retreating form and hustled to help him up the stairs. Dean turned back one last time pulling his lighter from his pocket and sneered into the darkness.

“Fucking witches—“.

* * *

The trip back to the bunker was silent, a tense cloud was settling among the three as each stewed with the possibilities of what this curse entailed. Dean didn’t know about Cas—but the things he said to Sam in that cellar—if he really thought about it were tiny hurtful truths that not even Dean would admit to himself in the light of day. Horrible nasty truths that would sneak up on him when he was feeling particularly resentful or hateful towards Sam for one reason or another. But just because they were true didn’t mean he ever really believe them. Just because they were small comforts he offered himself when he was being selfish didn’t mean he ever wanted Sam to know about them—

From the corner of his eye he watched as Cas snuck a glance back at Sam for the fourth time since they left the witch and her burning shack behind. He licked his lower lip and leaned towards Cas slowly, keeping his voice low.

“How’s he lookin’ Cas?” The angel glanced at him a second before easing back in his seat.

“The same as before, I’m concerned about the cuts on his chest—I don’t know why I wasn’t able to heal him. Perhaps Gabriel can shed some light when we return home.” Dean nodded and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, pressed on the gas a little firmer—“Dean—the thing I said to Sam—I hope you know that, that wasn’t the main reason why I saved him from the cage. I would never had let your brother—”

“I know man, I know—it’s this curse, or whatever it is. It’s like its pulling whatever hurtful truth it can find, no matter how small or how briefly we thought it. I don’t like this Cas.” Course he never liked anything that would affect Sam in a negative way, the kid just had a way about him that always seemed to attract trouble. “We need to get him to the bunker and avoid as many people as we can until we figure this out.” Cas nodded silently before turning again to look at Sam’s unconscious form.

“Dean—what were you talking about when you brought up a cursed penny?” Dean took a deep breath and shook his head, avoiding Cas’s piercing gaze.

“It was so long ago Cas, I don’t even really remember what I said— it was right after purgatory, before you came back. There was this penny that just amplified every hurt or, or every slight against you until you felt nothing but pure rage at someone. I was pissed, so pissed when I found out Sam quit the huntin’ life—quit on us—that it just latched on. I know I said some junk that really pushed his buttons and it took a while to get back to even keel between us. Fuck, why’d this have to happen now?” The both sat quietly for a few more moments, the town lights of Lebanon fading behind them as they cruised their way towards the bunker. After easing the car into the garage, Dean waved Cas off to get the first aid kit and meet them in the infirmary.

“It’s closest to the garage, less time he’s out and about the better. Go on, I’ll get him up and moving.” Cas nodded and quickly disappeared into the bunker to wait for them. Dean sat for a few moments, eyes hazily staring forward without focusing. He tried to wrack his brain for any other of these – truths—that could pop out and surprise them. Heaving a tired sigh, Dean climbed out of the Impala and made his way to the back-passenger door. Whatever decided to force its way out, they’d just have to deal with it. Gently running his hand over Sam’s hair, Dean carefully propped his brother up into a sitting position.

“Hey, Sammy—c’mon Sam time to get moving—” His eyes slowly focused as Dean kept up a steady stream of nonsense to rouse him around. He figured if he kept up the mindless chatter, he might be able to avoid any further uncomfortable, well truths.

They had made it halfway through the garage before their first obstacle came barreling through the open doors.

“Sam! Dean! What happened?” Mary was rushing her way towards them, her eyes scanning the two boys for obvious injuries before focusing on Sam’s leaning form. She focused quickly on the tried blood on his chest and the obvious open wounds. “Dean—what’s going on—” he shook his head and tried to shield Sam from her view. The last thing they needed was for the curse to be triggered by their mother. Unfortunately it seemed the Winchester bad luck was in full force at the moment. Dean could physically see the change as Mary’s shoulders seem to twitch and her eyes took on a brief blank expression. He felt Sam tense beside him and hunch in on himself.

“Dean—”

“Sam, you’re only my son in name. My son is still the 6 month old baby in my memories before he was infected with demon blood. Oh, god—Sammy I didn’t—” Sam pulled away from Dean and waved her off as he stumbled past the two frozen figures.

“Just forget about it mom—just—forget it—” Dean could see his mom’s face crumbling and he felt torn between comforting her and chasing after his clearly hurting brother. The decision was made for him when he heard Sam’s muffled shout of pain. Booking it past Mary and skipped down the stairs before skidding around the corner. At the far end of the hall, Dean could see Sam leaning heavily against the wall, a bloody hand streak stained halfway to his slumped form with Jack hovering near him.

“What did you say Jack?’ Dean bellowed as he advanced on the pair, “What did you say!” Jack’s eyes were bulging from his skull as he backed up quickly from Dean’s approaching fury.

“I-I-I didn’t mean it—I didn’t. What happened to him?” Dean ignored the kid for the moment, hands gently pulling Sam up to see the gashes on his chest had reopened and new blood was beginning to stain his skin. Dean swallowed hard again the building rage that threatened to overwhelm him—anger wasn’t going to help Sam now.

“It’s fine kid, everything’s fine. Can you go find Gabriel? Tell ‘im to meet us in the infirmary ok?” Jack nodded frantically before practically bolting from the hallway. Dean looked back to Sam, saw the gray pallor of his skin and the sweat beading on his forehead. The big brother worry was kicking into overdrive as he tried to support Sam’s weight and get him to Cas.

“C’mon bud—let’s go, just a little further okay? Think you can make it? Think we can get from here to there without you going on crazy on me, cause that get’s rather inconvenient—goddammit, just—c’mon Sam” The words at this point were like rusty nails in his throat as they weaseled their way to hurt his brother. Sam knew what this was, hell they all knew what this was and it was gonna take a miracle to keep Sam—The hot acidic feeling was starting to burst from his throat and he shook his head hard—

“No, no no no no—” Dean gave Sam a small shove into the infirmary and backed away down the hall, not bothering to see if Sam made it down the stairs towards the empty beds. This throat felt like it was on fire as he stumbled down the hall towards the library, he ran into Gabriel and Jack just as he leaned against one of the tables heavily.

“What’s up Dean-o? Jack said you and Sam needed me? Where is Sam-a-lam?” Dean cracked his neck, his teeth vibrated with the urge and he couldn’t stop the word vomit at this point even if he stapled his own lips shut—now that he thought about it, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea—

“Sam got himself cursed and Cas can’t heal ‘im. They’re in the infirmary now, though how long Sam will stay there is anyone’s guess since the coward will run the first chance he gets. That’s what he does Gabriel, he runs—as soon as it get’s hard the little bastard just—”

“Okay I’m gonna stop you right there Dean—I’m guessing you’re not all that willing to be spewing that hateful nonsense and this has something to do with this curse right?” Dean, too ashamed to open his mouth, merely nodded before slumping into a chair in defeat. He jumped slightly when Gabriel snapped his fingers and glanced at the angel/trickster as he popped a sucker in his mouth, an inquisitive look on his face. “Interesting curse—let’s go take a look and save the moose from anymore of this—whatever this is—” Gabriel gave him a brief pat on the back before walking away, Jack was still standing nervously as he stared at Dean.

Too tired and strung out to deal with it, Dean just shook his head before slumping further into the chair and closed his eyes. He knew things were rough before—after apocalypse world, then Lucifer and Michael—

_‘When are we gonna catch a break—fucking.witches.’_


	2. The truth may hurt but having to learn the truth after being fed a web of lies hurts more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hide sight, the three of them could agree going on this hunt right now was not the best of ideas. Dean and Sam were still getting back into the swing of things after Michael, and Castiel was more concerned with Jack now back at the bunker, but when duty called—and all that jazz—
> 
> An unknown witches curse hits the boys where it hurts, leaving the rocky boat adrift in the sea. Sam hears some of the darkest truths of those closest around him and the others fear they'll lose him forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 part mini series, we've got 4 chapters planned  
> Ch 1: Dean's POV  
> Ch 2: Castiel's POV  
> Ch 3: Gabriel's POV  
> Ch 4: Sam's POV
> 
> Slight AU, we're after Michael, Jack doesn't have his soul but Gabriel is around. No real timeline here, just a little snippet of time.
> 
> As always I do not own SPN or the characters, I just like to play with them

* * *

In hindsight this hunt, if one could call it that, was not what they were expecting when Sam brought up the news article a few days ago. A few disappearances, a couple unknown accidents—everything pointed to a witch. Simple enough, a milk run as Dean would call it. Castiel internally shook his head once more, cursing the Winchester luck.

The impala was quiet as Dean drove, white knuckled concentration on the pavement in front of them. Cas shifted slightly in his seat, his wings still felt itchy after being in the ring of fire for so long and he ached to stretch them as soon as they got back to the bunker. He felt the car slightly jerk around a pothole and the soft grunt from the backseat pulled his attention once more. He let his eyes search Sam’s prone form, bloody shirt covering the carved markings from the witches’ ritual. His concern increased at the gray tone of Sam’s skin and he furrowed his brow in thought.

“How’s he lookin’ Cas?” Dean’s gruff voice startled him slightly and he glanced at his friend before facing forward in his seat once more. Dean looked drawn, concerned, every bit the worried brother and Cas felt helpless to ease his tension. This was unknown territory for all of them, a curse that didn’t end with the caster’s death—wounds that seemed superficial but resisted angelic healing. He may not be at the power he once was—but he shouldn’t be so weak as to not be able to help his friend.

“The same as before, I’m concerned about the cuts on his chest—I don’t know why I wasn’t able to heal him. Perhaps Gabriel can shed some light when we return home.” Cas felt helpless as he watched Dean’s face furrow in anger and worry. Tensions were running high and the mood was shifting into dangerous territory. It was starting to feel hot and suppressive in the car and not for the first time, Cas wished he could escape its confines.

The mistakes of the hunt were on auto play as they continued closer to home. His eye twitched as he remembered every mistake, every misstep—though he’s heard somewhere that hindsight was always 20/20, he knows they could have done better. He remembers watching the witch cut into Sam as Dean struggled against his bindings. The paralyzing fear on the younger man’s face as blood trickled over his sides. The way the woman’s voice seemed to echo and fill around them with the unknown enchantment—a sudden uncomfortable guilt settled in his chest and he glanced at Dean again before clearing his throat.

“Dean—the thing I said to Sam—I hope you know that, that wasn’t the main reason why I saved him from the cage. I would never had let your brother—” His explanation sounded hallow even to his own ears as Dean waved it off. Cas would like to think he was a good person, even with all his mistakes, it was always for the right reason. But what the curse forced from him, what it brought to light even to his own ears was an undeniable truth—and he hated himself for it.

They filled the air with half platitudes and worries. The welcoming view of the bunker easing both their tensions slightly as they made it home. After being urged to the infirmary, Cas set his mind on the task ahead, healing Sam and fixing this mess. Quickly he sent a silent plea to his brother Gabriel to meet him in the infirmary as he hustled down the empty hallway. He tried to keep his steps light to avoid detection, but their string of luck struck again just as he opened the door.

“Cas? Why are you boys back already? Everything alright? Mary’s petite form seemed to glow from the library lights, and he could see the faint confusion in her eyes?

‘ _Gabriel—I need you quickly’._ Cas licked his lower lip and tried to smile at the woman but felt the grimace instead and cursed his lack of social knowledge.

“Yes Mary, everything is fine. Sam was a little injured, but we are taking care of it. It would be best if—” She brushed past him without waiting for further explanation, his shout after her ignored. He could hear her shout out the brother’s names and he cursed under his breath while striding into the room to gather the medical supplies. After a few moments, he stood by the side of one of the beds—his hands felt useless at his sides. The power of god pulsing under his skin and he couldn’t have felt more useless. Cas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for himself, a member of his family, his flock, was injured in more ways than one and he knew it was going to take more than a few bandages to heal the hurts that were opened tonight.

Pulling off his trench coat, he rolled up his sleeves and started back towards the door, determined in his stride to make this right when he heard murmured voices approaching quickly. He slowed his steps waiting for Sam and Dean to appear but was startled when he heard Jack’s voice.

“Sam? You’re injured—was it the hunt? What can I do?” Sam’s voice was too low to hear but Cas could make out the desperation in his tone—seeing Mary must not have gone well. “Sam let me help you—you know you could never be a father to me like Cas. I’m not sure if I’ll even remember who you are when you die—oh my god—” Ice spiked itself in Cas’s chest and he felt frozen in place. For a moment, he felt elation that Jack thought of him as a father. The fallen Seraph who wasn’t good enough for Heaven was accepted by the most wonderous child he had ever met.

Then pain and sympathy radiated through his body and he felt a strong sense of hurt for Sam. The man who had always just wanted a family and saw Jack as his own from the moment he was born-- to hear you meant so little to someone you cared about so much—

Cas’s internal struggle was cut short as Sam’s large form was swiftly shoved into the room and he stumbled under his heavy weight. Momentarily he caught Dean’s retreating form and Mary’s blank look before focusing on his friend. His battered, trembling friend who looked to be coming apart at the seams. He could see fresh blood oozing down his chest, and he adjusted his grip before starting back towards the prepared space, Mary trailing behind. Sam went without a struggle, his eyes downcast with lanky hair covering his face to provide some protection from the outside world. He eased Sam on the bed as gently as he could before turning to Mary.

“I need warm water please, and it’d be best if you don’t speak for now—” She seemed to jolt out of her thoughts as Cas addressed her and it took a moment before she caught on to what he was saying. With a quick nod she grabbed a clean bowl and busied herself with the sink silently. With one problem out of the way, Cas turned his attention back to his friend. Carefully he peeled the shirt from Sam’s skin and winced in sympathy at the hiss of pain.

The lines were clean, showing the knife’s sharpness, and they weren’t very deep which was a small godsend at the moment. The worst part seemed to be right over his heart. A looping, almost revolving rune of some sort was carved over his peck. Multiple lines intersected creating an intricate design. With all the movement and jostling however, the cuts had ripped painfully over his skin which was a bright red from irritation. As Mary set the bowl of warm water down, Cas leaned forward and tried to catch Sam’s attention.

“Sam—please listen to me. I am going to clean your wounds. They do not look deep enough for stitches so this should not take long. Do you want any painkillers, or would you like me to put you to sleep?” It took a moment it seemed, for Sam to register that Cas was even talking to him. He watched patiently as the hazel eyes cleared and focused on his face. The swirling colors reflected the man’s turmoil, and Cas was deeply reminded of the young man from before Lucifer’s cage. The Winchester who was trying so desperately to save his brother, even if it meant damning himself.

Sam took a shuddering breath and shook his head slowly before easing back onto the bed.

“Ne-neither—I’m good. Let’s just get this done.” Cas heard Mary sigh as she sat next to him and watched as she placed a comforting hand on his arm. Both saw the minute flinch at the contact but chose not to comment on it.

“Sam—sweetie, there’s no reason for you to be in pain. Let Cas put you to sleep for a while. When you wake up, things will be better.” If Cas hadn’t been watching Sam so closely, he probably would have missed the quick flicker of yellow across his eyes. He glanced at Mary and saw her blink for a moment, and he knew what was coming.

“Sam, no matter what she says—”

“I prefer Dean’s company to yours because he doesn’t remind me of the mistakes I made. Every day I have to look into your eyes, I’m reminded that it’s your fault I died, and Dean and John were ruined.” The silence was deafening as Mary seemed to belatedly register what she had just said. Sam watched her passively, eyes reddening with tears he refused to let fall. Cas gently gripped Mary’s shoulder to help her stand and steered her out of the room.

As Mary left, her own tears rolling heavily down her cheeks, Gabriel came swaggering in. Eyebrow raised in question; he rotated the sucker in his mouth while staring at Castiel. He felt like a small weight was lifted from his shoulders with his brother’s presence and he glanced back at Sam who hadn’t moved after Mary’s recent truth vomit. He turned back to Gabriel, eyes wide and desperate.

“Please brother, please tell me you can help him?” Gabriel leaned to the side to study Sam quietly. Cas had the sudden small urge to protect the vulnerable hunter and he shifted where he stood. When Gabriel focused back on his brother, his face looked grim, eyes bright with anger. Yanking the sucker from his mouth, he pointed the sweet confectionary in Cas’s face and nearly growled,

“You will tell me everything that happened, do not leave out any details—” Cas nodded solemnly and turned back to Sam to start dressing his wounds. The hunter barely moved as the angel worked, his eyes vacant and staring over his shoulder at nothing. Gabriel watched from the side, his eyes ticking over the markings on Sam’s chest. In a careful quiet tone, Cas started explaining the hunt. The articles and witnesses. The, supposedly, quick stake out of the witches’ house; then the rapid failure and capture.

“She had bound Sam to a table away from us and was carving this into his chest while reciting some incantation. Unfortunately, my senses were dulled due to the holy fire, so I was unable to clearly—”

“Voluntarie revelation-- tenebris, dimittere te dolore— ad Achus dei. Dominus noster pascere.” Sam’s quiet voice echoed in the cement room and Gabriel blinked a few times before huffing.

“Of course it is—why not—I swear you Winchester’s are just the worst when it comes to trouble. Did you ever try, oh I don’t know, not being the subject of a God’s feeding curse?” Sam rolled his eyes and winced slightly when Cas finished binding his chest.

“You’re right Gabe, this must be so inconvenient for you—” A small swell of happy warmth glowed in Cas’s chest as Sam’s light jesting. His friend was not broken. The man who defeated Lucifer multiple times and saved the world, would not be broken from this witches’ curse.

“Gabriel—how do we fix it?” Gabe winced slightly and looked apologetically at Sam before shaking his head.

“There is no real fixing this Cassie—It’s in the deities’ hands now as to when he will release Sam from the promise forged. Roughly translating this curse is to uncover the darkest truths of those around the subject, feeding the God’s appetite for pain. In this case I’m guessing it’s more an internal pain than external.”

“Well—how do we get this sick sonofabitch to back off?” Dean’s rough voice caused all three to jump slightly and Sam tried to sink deeper into the bed, avoiding their gazes. Dean ambles slowly down the stairs, eyes locked on his brother’s still form before turning to pierce Gabriel with one of his “My brother is hurt and you will fix him” glares. Cas is well aware of the heat of that stare from the past, knows that lesser men cowered from the older Winchester when there was no good news to give. Luckily (or unluckily depending on the target), Gabe was no lesser man.

“It’s simple really, either the God get’s tired of this particular flavor—or we call him here and ask him.” Cas can’t help it—he raises an eyebrow at Gabriel’s solution and scoffs.

“Ask him—just like that—” Gabriel tutted at Cas’s disbelieving tone before popping a new sucker into his mouth.

“Believe it or not, not all lower deities are unreasonable. He might ask for something in return, but we’ll deal with that bridge when we get there. Until then, Sammikins—” Cas watched as Sam slowly raised his eyes to meet Gabriel’s gaze and felt his heart clench at the pre-emptive flinch under Sam’s skin. Gabriel softened slightly and sighed. “This will only get worse before it get’s better. You could try to hide from it, but these things have a way of making it happen. Just remember that the things you hear—it may be a truth, but it does not defines their thoughts about you. This thing is made to grab onto whatever truth it can find, no matter how fleeting it may have been.” Again, Cas watches Sam’s eyes as they slowly focus while Gabriel speaks. He watches as Sam slowly raises his gaze to meet Gabriel’s and the quick flash of yellow seems brighter than previously experienced. He held his breath and watched Gabriel closely—waiting for the inevitable crash and burn.

“I’m sorry Sam-a-lam I really am—I’ve always known you’re a special little needy nutcracker but this is a whole new level of attention seeking—wowzer’s that was a doozy—” Cas shook his head and sighed. Sam was shutting down again, eyes hidden behind limp hair as he clenched the sheets tightly in his fists.

“I think—I think I’m just gonna go lay down for a while. Gimme a few hours then we can deal with this. Okay?” Sam’s practically pleading to be allowed to escape to the safety of his room. The sight hurts Cas’s heart and he nods his head when Dean speaks up.

“Yeah Sammy, whatever you want. Just—just stay here okay? We’ll make sure Mom and Jack stay clear; we’ll give you some space.” Dean shakes his head towards the door, indicating to the two angels to leave. Cas doe so reluctantly, turning slightly as he exits the room to see Dean giving Sam a quick one-armed hug, lips whispering against his forehead as Sam shakes in his grip. He looks back at Gabriel and sees the barely hidden concern.

Cas thinks to himself as they meander back to the library that Dean summarized the situation best,

‘ _Fucking witches’._


	3. So Now You've Heard the Truth, Ready to Deal With It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hide sight, the three of them could agree going on this hunt right now was not the best of ideas. Dean and Sam were still getting back into the swing of things after Michael, and Castiel was more concerned with Jack now back at the bunker, but when duty called—and all that jazz—
> 
> An unknown witches curse hits the boys where it hurts, leaving the rocky boat adrift in the sea. Sam hears some of the darkest truths of those closest around him and the others fear they'll lose him forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 part mini series, we've got 4 chapters planned  
> Ch 1: Dean's POV  
> Ch 2: Castiel's POV  
> Ch 3: Gabriel's POV  
> Ch 4: Sam's POV
> 
> Slight AU, we're after Michael, Jack doesn't have his soul but Gabriel is around. No real timeline here, just a little snippet of time.
> 
> As always I do not own SPN or the characters, I just like to play with them

* * *

If there was one thing Gabriel had learned in his eons on Dad’s green earth, was that patience was cultivated, nurtured. Something grown with understanding of the mechanisms of the world around him, and something he was running out of very quickly at the moment.

“Look kiddo, I understand the exercise is futile as you will never be in the situation of life or death since you can’t die—but humor me. If you had to choose between saving your own life, or a child’s then what would you choose? Hell I’ll make it easier, your life or a bus full of puppies and kittens—” Jack cocked his head to the side and stared at Gabriel curiously.

“Why wouldn’t the bus driver save the animals? Puppies and Kittens can’t drive, logically speaking there would be another person involved in this scenario who put them at risk so wouldn’t it be they’re responsibility to take care of them?” Gabriel let his head fall onto the table in front of him with a hard plunk and groaned.

“Are we really sure you aren’t actually Cassie’s kid—you’re way to literal for your own good kiddo.” Jack smiled, taking the backwards compliment for a sincere comment and looked up as Mary came wandering into the library. Gabe heard her chuckle and felt her warm hand on his shoulder before he turned his head to stare off towards the metal staircase pass the war room.

“Goin’ that well huh?” Gabriel just grunted his affirmation before taking a deep breath and pushes away from the table. His afternoon is suddenly calling for a few rounds of alcohol and some alone time with Dean’s “hidden” vintage porno stash. He claps Jack on the back as he wanders off for some privacy when he picks up the quiet hum of the Winchester’s Impala. ‘ _Fuckin’ perfect—‘._ Resigned to another night of Dean’s needling and grumpy attitude he hurries his steps slightly towards the kitchen. ‘ _Grab the booze first then the porn.’_ He feels an odd tingle of desperation coming from Cas and he falters for a moment, a worrisome feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He waffles for a few minutes about whether to check on the boys when Cas’s prayer rings in his ears.

‘ _Gabriel—I need you quickly’._ Of.fucking.course. Either one, or both, of the bone-headed hunters are injured and it would just be his luck that it’s Sam. Sam Winchester, the idiot who pushes too far. Gabriel had told him this hunt was a bad idea, too soon after everything—but say what you will about Dean’s stubbornness, it’s nothing when compared to little brother attitude.

Snapping a sucker into his hand, he stared wistfully at the bottles of alcohol before turning away, promising himself a real pamper kind of night when this was all done. He starts back towards the library and nods his head in acknowledgment at Jack who says Dean was looking for him, before wandering into the library, kid close behind unusually quiet. Gabriel is startled slightly to see Dean without Sam, looking haggard and exhausted. He’s leaning heavily against one of the long tables, eyes squeezed shut as tightly as his fists. Vanishing the sucker for a minute, he studies the older hunter with a few tinges of concern edging into his voice.

“What’s up Dean-o? Jack said you and Sam needed me? Where is Sam-a-lam?” Gabriel tries to discreetly search the library for the big sunshine-y moose, it’s never a good thing when the two are separated without their consent. He’s just wondering which direction this particular separation was going to take. Gabriel watches as Dean straightens up stiffly and cracks his neck in irritation.

“Sam got himself cursed and Cas can’t heal ‘im. They’re in the infirmary now, though how long Sam will stay there is anyone’s guess since the coward will run the first chance he gets.” ‘ _Ah, so it’s gonna be one of those times—‘._ _“_ It’s what he does Gabriel, he runs—as soon as it get’s hard the little bastard just—”

_‘Wait a minute—’_

“Okay I’m gonna stop you right there Dean—” Gabriel throws his hands up in an attempt to stave off Dean’s little rant. He can hear the practically hateful word vomit spewing from the man, but the way his eyes scream in frustration and pain tell a different story. “I’m guessing you’re not all that willing to be spewing that stupid nonsense and this has something to do with this witch right?” Gabriel watches as Dean slumps in defeat into a chair, nodding silently. Snapping his sugary treat back, mind cranking out thoughts and plans he nods to himself and senses out his brother in the infirmary.

“Interesting curse—let’ go take a look and save the moose from anymore of this—whatever this is—” Trying to instill confidence in a shaky situation was never Gabriel’s forte, but leaving the exhausted hunter and silent Nephilim behind, he steels his resolve as he makes his way briskly towards the rolling turmoil echoing around him.

‘ _Reeeeeally could use that drink now—‘._

* * *

He’s checked in on Sam a few times through the night, watching as the bandaged chest rises and falls in a staccato fashion with hitched breath.

‘ _A fucking pain feeding curse—why not—add it to the bingo card—‘._ There’s been quiet discussions among the other members of their ragged family through the night. Prodding questions to wheedle out whatever painful truths could be hidden in the recesses of their minds. Any cannon fodder this curse could pull out at the most inopportune moment. Gabriel listened passively as he gathered the proper herbs and ingredients for the standard summoning he knew was going to happen once Sam woke up.

Gabriel had been one of the first to submit to every painful thought he ever had for the hunter, from demon diseased abomination, to selfish prick of a man trying to keep him around just for his grace. He wasn’t proud of it, then again if any of them were proud of the situation there’d be a whole new set of questions to be had.

Now as he watched Sam sleep fitfully, he couldn’t help but reflect on the man’s past actions and really had to wonder if what he thought were truths or were just misconstrued ideas from high tension situations. After all, he saw as well as any Angel back in the day that the demon blood was a minimal taint at best. A gray splotch on an otherwise brilliant soul. Sure, he had to guzzle the stuff like Gatorade to house dear old Luci in the end but—the intentions were what mattered, not the act itself.

As for his most recent “rescue” from Asmodeus—it hurt at first, thinking the only reason the others were helping him were for his grace but—

_Sam’s puppy eyes were out in full force as he watched Gabriel’s huddled form on the bed. He’d been trying to get through to the Angel and Gabriel can practically see the desperation coming off Sam in waves_

_“Gabriel, you have to dig yourself out of this hole. Look, I know you think it's safer inside. No more torture. No more pain. No more expectations. I've been there. You were nothing like your family. You sure as hell weren't like your dad. Me either. And just like you, I got out. Or I-I thought I got out. But then... then my family needed me. And this is my life. No matter how many times I tried to fight it, this is what I was put here to do. This is where I make the world a better place. And sure, yeah, hookers in Monte Carlo sounds great, but your family needs you. Jack, your nephew, needs you. The world needs you. We need you. Gabriel, I need you. So, please, help us_ —”

_He’s watching as Sam turns away, shoulders are slumped in defeat and something inside Gabriel cracks at the sight. At the hunter who had fought the designs of fate and won—this man should never look that defeated._

He had been arrogant and sure in the possibility of being tossed away when he wasn’t of any use anymore so he jumped the gun—jumped ship really, before he was tossed overboard. Now he regrets his actions almost as much as he regrets his other encounters with the brothers.

He hears a soft whimper from the bed and his eyes refocus on the shifting form. A hand is pressing hard against the bandages and specks of blood are starting to seep through the pristine bandages. He hurries over and grabs Sam’s hand in a tight grip making soft shushing noises.

“Easy Sam easy, don’t hurt yourself Sasquatch—it’s just a dream—” Hazel eyes peak at him from behind long lashes and Gabriel curses under his breath. They’re red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears and silent pain. He pulls Sam’s hand against his chest as he sits on the side of the cot. His other hand tentatively reaches out and pushes some of the sweaty hair from Sam’s forehead. He tries for a smile but falls short of the mark as Sam winces in pain again. His hoarse voice is barely a whisper as he licks his dry lips.

“I-it hurts Gabe—it’s like my chest is on fire—or-or being crushed—I ca-can’t—” Gabriel squeezes Sam’s hand again and shifts a bit closer.

“I know Sam-a-lam I know—I told you, it’s just gonna get worse before it gets better—you up to joining us in the library to summon this guy and get it over with, or do you want to sleep more?” He can tell Sam is truly debating it, wanting nothing more than to fall into unconsciousness and possibly never wake up. He can see the utter resignation at the question and knows there’s no real choice to a man like Sam Winchester. He feels the small pull on his hand and helps Sam sit up before reaching for a glass of water and handing it over. He scoots a bit closer and turns so he’s supporting Sam’s back as he drinks slowly from the cup and after a few quiet moments; Gabriel watches as Sam slips on a mask of resolve and places the glass back on the side table.

“I’m no one’s midnight snack, let’s go get this over with—” Gabriel gives in to the small snort of laughter as he helps him stand and shuffle towards the others. He can’t help the small spark of pride that ghosts along his grace as he watches his friend slowly march towards a certainly uncomfortable situation. He may not have watched as closely as all of Heaven did for most of their lives, but there’s something about this Sam Winchester—this man that came from a boy.

Gabriel doesn’t sense the old arrogance or pig-headed pride that used to permeate in the air around the Winchesters. Now all he see’s is a quiet strength and a level of loyalty that none can replicate. He may not have had a big part in shaping these two, but he’s happy he got to see the outcome.

He watches as Sam straightens his spine tightly before turning the last corner and entering the library. The group he left behind are subdued, eyes downcast into bottles of beer or scotch glasses. Jack is sitting in the corner watching everyone with wide eyes and is the first to spot the two newcomers.

“Sam!” He leaps from his chair and starts rushing towards the hunter but stops when Sam shakes his head.

“Jus—for now don’t talk to me—anyone—and don’t—don’t say more than necessary until we get this figured out.” Dean nods quietly, green eyes staring at a spot on the wall just over Sam’s shoulder and Gabriel can tell he appreciates it. Mary looks like she wants to argue, and Cas places a gentle hand on her shoulder with a shake of his head. Jack returns to his seat, eyes thoughtful, and Sam nods to himself before glancing back at Gabriel.

“Alright Gabe, what do we need to figure out what god this is for, and how to summon it?” Gabriel snaps his fingers and points finger guns at the taller man and winks.

“Already got it covered Sammikins, all I need to complete this little party is some of your blood.” He jerks his head towards the temporary alter set up in the war room and starts walking over. “Once we get the good stuff, zip-bang-boom you got yourself a summon. I’ll know who it is once they get here, then we’ll know what we’re dealing with.” Sam’s two steps behind Gabriel as they walk, the others slowly rising out of their chairs and hovering on the steps. Gabriel flicks his eyes towards Dean as the man clears his throat and appears to think long and hard before opening his mouth.

“How do we know this is going to work? Better question, what if the thing that get’s summoned isn’t interested in negotiating and just—finishes the job?” Gabriel shrugs and sticks his hands in his pockets.

“This is a gamble sweetheart, we don’t.” Dean looks torn as he gnaws on his lower lip.

“Sammy—are you sur—” It happens for just a second, but it’s a second too long and Gabriel curses under his breath as he watches the two brothers lock eyes and Dean’s breath hitches before his aborted sentence is taken over and Gabriel tenses as well as Sam waiting for the worst. “I still think it should have been you who died instead of Charlie, and everyone else who’s suffered because of your existence—Jesus fuck—” Dean runs a hand roughly over his face and turns away for a second. Gabriel watches the exchange and is both saddened and surprised at the level of control Sam has over his outward appearance. He glances at Castiel and can see even the powered-down seraph can see the steady dimming of the hunter’s soul. It doesn’t take more than that, for Sam to lower his head slightly and give a grimace of a smile.

“Yeah Dean—I’m sure—” Sam holds his arm out wordlessly to Gabriel over the bowl, eyes locked firmly on the table between them. Gabriel barely hesitates as he grabs a knife and grips Sam’s wrist. He gives it a quick squeeze of reassurance then blood is split. It’s almost anticlimactic but the tension in the air intensifies as the plum of smoke curls towards the ceiling. They stand motionless, the others around them waiting nervously. After a few minutes Gabriel feels the first curls of doubt and agitation wiggle under his skin.

“Well—whoever it is, don’t they know it’s rude to keep company waiting?”

**_“Hello Loki-Gabriel—"_ **


	4. The truth hurts but it doesn’t kill. The lie pleases but it doesn’t heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hind sight, the three of them could agree going on this hunt right now was not the best of ideas. Dean and Sam were still getting back into the swing of things after Michael, and Castiel was more concerned with Jack now back at the bunker, but when duty called—and all that jazz—
> 
> An unknown witches curse hits the boys where it hurts, leaving the rocky boat adrift in the sea. Sam hears some of the darkest truths of those closest around him and the others fear they'll lose him forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll-- I seriously intended for this to only have 4 chapters (dammit Sammy) this got waaayy to long for one so we will have a 5th chapter, maybe I'll jump back to Dean's POV or stick with Sam-- what do you guys want? The big reveal and solution will be revealed next chapter! (promise) Let me know in the comments if you want a specific POV!
> 
> Oh yeah, as always I do not own SPN or it's characters, I just like to hurt them.
> 
> **Quick disclaimer-- it's late, I'm tired, shoulda really reread this for errors but I'm exhausted and really wanted to get you all this update. If you see something GLARINGLY wrong, please let me know :)

* * *

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Sam was unsure when the hunt really started to go wrong but he could pinpoint the moment where they reached the point of no return. His back ached from the hard table under him, arms tingling from too tight restraints. His mouth was dry and he struggled to get his thick tongue to loosen from the roof of his mouth. He could vaguely hear Dean and Cas talking just to his left, but his head felt too heavy to move at the moment. The house had seemed empty, vacant of their witch and the threat she represented. Slowly he could feel his brain kickstarting as he assessed his situation.

Tied to a table, sluggish responses, heavy dried feeling in his mouth. Drugged then. Or under a spell. He pulled weakly at the restrains and felt the pins and needles intensify under his skin. Sam couldn’t stop the small whimper of pain as he let himself relax on the table. He hoped Dean and Cas were better off than he was. There was a creaking noise that broke up the stillness around them and Sam saw a shaft of light cut through the darkness. He could hear Dean shouting but his mind was still too slow to understand the words. Slowly his eyes focused as he saw a tall figure standing next to him. He could vaguely make out a female silhouette, her eyes seemed to glow red in the semi darkness and subconsciously Sam tried to shy away from her gaze, faint laughter from eons ago echoing in his mind.

He watched, semi-passively, as she pulled a sharp knife from her pocket. A ghost of a smile on her face before her guttural voice washed over him.

“You have been chosen Sam Winchester, be thankful.” Her knife descended slowly, cutting away at his shirt leaving his chest bare. Panic was starting to invigorate his limbs and he pulled sharply at his restraints. The witch paid him no mind, her eyes closing as she took a deep breath and lowered the knife to his skin.

The first thing he felt was the warm trickle of blood down his sides before the pain bloomed in his chest. He grunted in surprise and tried to struggle harder, the sounds of Dean and Cas moving around behind the witch growing louder. He glanced back at the witches’ face and stilled at the glowing red and sparking energy he could practically feel around her person.

**“ _Voluntarie revelationi tenebris, dimittere te dolore ad Achus dei. Dominus noster pascere_ —” **He could feel when the knife made a connecting line on his chest as sharp fire spread from his heart and up his throat. It felt like molten lava was filling inside of him, threatening to spill and he opened his mouth trying to expel the caustic feeling. His body vibrated, eyes wide and watering as sparks of light flashed over his vision. He had to close his eyes against the rising nausea and startled when he felt warm hands cradle his face. He tried to pull away, voice finally rasping out,

“Please—please stop—” The heated body landed over his prone form and he startled at a loud noise before silence descended. He laid still, chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to catch his breath. The warm body, _Cas_ , his mind supplied, had shifted and he could feel the binds around his ankles rubbing frantically as his friend fought to release him. His chest ached and he fought the rising panic as he pulled on his wrists again, anxious to get off the table. He blinked and suddenly Dean was in his sight, his rough hands cradled his face and it took a moment for Sam to line up the sounds he was hearing with Dean’s voice.

“—you hear me? Hey, hey—Sammy--?” He focused on his brother’s face, stone number one. Like trickling water, the panic subsided as he slowed his breathing. It’d by okay, whatever had happened, whatever that witch did would be—

“I meant every word I said to you when I was under the influence of the cursed penny—wait—” Sam physically could feel the sharp sting of an old pain pierce his heart. Dean’s confused expression faded away as he stepped back from Sam as he felt the restraints from his wrists fall away. Sam felt his mind whirl as Cas eased him up to a sitting position and run critical hands over his injuries.

“Sam, stay still a moment while I take a look at your wounds.” Sam could feel Cas’s warm fingers on his chest as he probed the superficial cuts. His whole body felt sorta numb now, his eyes carefully watched as his brother paced for a moment before going to their discarded bags and grabbing the salt and gas. He flinched when Cas poked a particularly deep cut and glanced at his friend. They locked eyes for a moment, Cas’s intense worried gaze searching Sam’s face. He blinked and was about to spout the usual “I’m fine” when he saw Cas’s face slacken, eyes blink rapidly before he cocked his head to the side.

“I only saved you from the cage to distract Dean while I opened Purgatory. Why did I say that?” Cas broke contact and Sam shivered at the loss of his body heat, the words barely registering as his breath labored in his chest.

‘ _What the hell was that spell?’_ He could hear Dean’s worried anxious voice and forced himself to pay attention, forced his mind from wandering down into the darkness of unconsciousness it so desperately craved. Sam absently clenched his shirt to his chest to soak up the lazily rivulets of blood while he cleared his throat.

“I think—uh, I think the witches’ spell is still in effect. I didn’t catch all the words but, something about truth—and the uh—I heard Algae—the children of pain, uh dammit”. The more he spoke the more his chest burned, and he winced at the tightness in his throat. He tried to get off the table and couldn’t stop the flinch from Castiel’s hand. He grimaced a smile but stared at the floor, refusing to meet either of their gaze.

_‘Was this really what they thought? Or-or did? – god I’m so tired—‘._ Sam let his body sag slightly and didn’t fight it when Cas pulled away the soiled shirt. He felt the warm tentative hand on his shoulder and barely held in the flinch in response. The feeling of grace washed over his skin and concentrated on the cuts on his chest. Subconsciously he held his breath, waiting for the quick relief but was disappointed when the hand retreated and still felt the sting of the wounds.

“I don’t understand—there’s no magic left, I should be able to heal you now.”

_Tainted, wrong, abomination, disgusting, freak, freak, freakfreakfreakfreak—_

“Maybe it has something to do with the curse?” Sam tried desperately to drown out the litany running merry circles in his head. “Let’s just—let’ get back to the bunker. I’ll be fine.” Sam was taking deep breaths trying to quell the rising panic but startled when Dean snorted.

“Yeah sure Sam, the last time you were fine was when I let you walk away to Stanford—Fuck—“. Sam’s chest echoed painfully with the thudding of his heart.

_Let you walk away—let you—let you leave—_

A vice grip clenched against his tender muscles and he clenched his eyes hard against the rising urge to cry. Were these truths? Were this forced confessions buried so deep he never figured out how much of a burden he was on his family?

“How bout we make a deal guys—” He forced his voice steady as he pushed away the rising tide of self-hatred, there’d be time for that later. “-you don’t talk to me until we get back to the bunker and figure this out—and Cas can sit up front while I pass out for a bit.” Oblivion sounded heavenly right now, he didn’t even wait for their consent as he gingerly grabbed the shirt back from Cas and made his way towards the stairs. His heart felt like it was in his shoes as he walked heavily towards the impala. He tried not to focus on the words—he tried to see the reactions, the confusion and panic that reflected in their eyes. As he gently collapsed onto the worn leather of _home_ and eased his head against the far door, he tried to remember his family loved him no matter his faults and this was nothing—this was nothing—

‘ _Fucking witches—’_

* * *

The journey home was spent mostly in a fugue state of pleasant darkness. Sam swirled between consciousness and sleep to the steady sounds of soft rock and Dean’s rumbling voice. He didn’t bother trying to keep track of the conversation around him. He could gladly go a week at this point without hearing Dean or Cas addressing him directly. A vacation was definitely in order after this mess.

_‘We really shouldn’t have taken this case—so stupid—‘._

He could feel the Impala slow easily and the sudden change from pavement to gravel jarred him enough to open his eyes as the roof of the garage passed overhead.

‘ _Home—safe—everything was going to be okay—‘._ He remained blissfully pliant in the semi cloud of comfort as Dean eased him from the back of the car and steadily supported him towards the interior hallways of their home. His mind was already focused on a warm shower and the comfort of his own bed when he was jarred backwards by Dean’s strong grip.

“Sam! Dean! What happened?”

‘ _No—nonononono—’_ Sam barely glanced up and unfortunately caught his mother’s eye and cringed as he saw a shudder run through her body.

‘ _Please—please not her too-‘_

“Sam, you’re only my son in name. My son is still the 6-month-old baby in my memories before he was infected with demon blood—” A wall seemed to shutter in his mind as he nodded blankly at her words. Of course, it would affect her too. Of course, there were regrets she had, and being here—being forced to interact with those mistakes, naturally it was bound to cause resentment. Sam pulled slowly away from Dean’s grasp, unwilling to continue to taint him further.

_Tainted, useless, freak, abomination_

His feet slapped heavily against the tile as his hand shot out to support himself against the wall. His head was spinning against his own internally monologue.

‘ _No one wants you here, no one needs you. Should just have stayed away, stayed gone, stayed dead, dead, deaddeaddead—’_

“Sam, I heard you were back, where are Castiel and Dean?” Sam squinted through the pulsing pain and shook his head and tried to avoid Jack’s curious gaze

‘ _Please—stop—don’t—’_

“Sam? You’re injured—was it the hunt? What can I do?” Jack took a step forward, his hand outstretched to comfort, but all Sam could see was condemnation. He tried to back up out of his reach, but it was too late.

It was getting worse; Sam could almost physically feel the curse this time as it’s tendrils of perverse power reached out and circled the young Nephilim. He could almost see the way it wormed its way into his eyes and mouth, the change almost instant.

“Sam let me help you—you know you could never be a father to me like Cas. I’m not sure if I’ll even remember who you are when you die—” Sam couldn’t stop the grunt of pain as another wretch of his heart caused his to collapse heavily against the wall. His hand slid forward allowing his shoulder to jar against the hard cement and his breath stuttered painfully in his lungs. He clenched his teeth tightly, trying to hold the breaking sounds inside, if he could keep it in—keep it hidden then maybe he wouldn’t shatter against the floor.

His world was jumbled for a short time, a hard shove and gentle hands—a soft bed under him. He felt a barrier of protection lift away and he allowed his eyes to open for a moment to stare at Castiel’s worried gaze. He could see the piercing blue eyes assess the damage before raising to meet his stare, the worry and guilt warred in the Angel’s mind and Sam tried to find some strength to muster up assurances for his friend.

‘ _Because he is my friend—he is—‘._ Sam forced himself to focus as Castiel spoke in a soft whisper above him.

“—want any painkillers, or would you like me to put you to sleep?” Sleep, oh sleep sounded heavenly. A deep trek into the darkness where none of this could touch him. Could remind him of what a failure it was—

“Ne—neither—I’m good. Let’s just get this done.” He couldn’t afford to be weak, couldn’t afford to take the cowardly way out. He had to be strong, had to stay grounded—

“Sam—sweetie, there’s no reason for you to be in pain. Let Cas put you to sleep for a while. When you wake up, things will be better.” Sam wanted to smile at her, wanted to take her words of comfort and wrap them around his bruising heart and never let go. It would be easy to do as she suggested and just as he was about to sigh out consent it happened again.

Clearly, he could see it. Could almost feel it as the spell weaved its way from his body towards his mother. He watched helplessly as the now red tendrils disappeared in her eyes and mouth and Sam could feel a tremble start in his hands. Vaguely he could hear Cas speaking urgently but Sam was too tuned in to his mother right in front of him.

“I prefer Dean’s company to yours because he doesn’t remind me of the mistakes I made. Every day I have to look into your eyes, I’m reminded that it’s your fault I died, and Dean and John were ruined.” And there it was—the proverbial nail in the coffin. Sam couldn’t blame her, didn’t even want to try and work his way out of this one. She was right, as were they all. All his childhood he had watched as his father worked with whatever broken soul he had left. He watched as his brother grew faster than what was natural for a child. A solider following orders in the body of a 10 year old—

Sam could physically feel the fight leave his body as he sagged against the bed underneath him. His eyes gazes absently towards the ceiling, mind shattered and blessedly silent. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise—perhaps brings these truths to light would make the parting easier for them—after all—why keep around the

_Freak, abomination, disappointment, useless, freakfreakfreakfreak_

A warm breeze eased over his face and Sam slowly turned his head to focus on the bodies in the room with him. ‘ _When did Gabriel get here? Wonder—maybe he’ll be different—_

“—I was unable to clearly—” Sam knew they were talking about the witch, about the curse that laid so heavily against Sam’s skin. He swallowed heavily and whispered quietly,

“Voluntarie revelation-- tenebris, dimittere te dolore— ad Achus dei. Dominus noster pascere—” He begged Gabriel to understand—begged the archangel with his eyes to know how to fix this, how to stop it. He watched as the little ball of sunlight ranted and raved in annoyance. He saw how his friend huffed and puffed but kept looking back at Sam with barely concealed worry. This was **_Gabe_** he could do this—

“You’re right Gabe, this must be so inconvenient for you—” He forced a smile and watched as Gabriel softened lightly and winked at him. Nothing was okay, it was far from okay—so far out there he wasn’t even in the same **state** as okay—but it was a start. He tuned out most of the talking, concentrating on the little ball of light that was slowly growing in his chest. Gabriel kept watching him, his gaze soft and Sam felt safety slowly ease over his being and he relaxed. He watched the others around him, Cas’s firm posture, Dean’s frustrated fidgeting—he knew his family loved him, he was being silly to think otherwise—slowly Sam returned his gaze to Gabriel and froze as the now too familiar feeling began to rise.

‘ _No—no please—I’m begging you—’_ He watched with morbid fascination as the tendrils grew, their red now a pulsing light and he felt weak as they inched towards Gabriel’s form, His breath started to come in short gasps as they seemed to poise to strike before vanishing inside Gabriel. Reluctantly he turned his attention back to the words being said and clenched his fists against the covers.

“I’m sorry Sam-a-lam I really am—I’ve always known you’re a special little needy nutcracker, but this is a whole new level of attention seeking—” And there it was—just like the rest.

“I think—I think I’m just gonna go lay down for a while. Gimme a few hours—” _Or lifetimes_ “—then we can deal with this. Okay?” He just barely held back the begging _please_. Sam was at the point where if he had to remain here, he would just break down, chick flick moments be damned.

“—We’ll give you some space—“. Sam feels his brother’s hard form squeeze against him for a moment before being gently tucked in. Warm chapped lips caress his forehead and suddenly Sam feels like he’s a kid again, where the worst things to fear were the monsters under his bed. His eyes sting at the unexpected emotion and barely hears Dean whisper, “I love you Sammy—” before he’s gone with the others.

The whirling noises of the fluorescent lights click off quickly as Sam is left in the semi darkness of the expansive medical ward. His eyes slowly focus in the dusky light of the emergency night light and in the solitude of his own misery, he finally allows the hot tears trail into his hair.


	5. The Pure and Simple Truth is Rarely Pure and Never Simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hind sight, the three of them could agree going on this hunt right now was not the best of ideas. Dean and Sam were still getting back into the swing of things after Michael, and Castiel was more concerned with Jack now back at the bunker, but when duty called—and all that jazz—
> 
> An unknown witches curse hits the boys where it hurts, leaving the rocky boat adrift in the sea. Sam hears some of the darkest truths of those closest around him and the others fear they'll lose him forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There! I beat the plot bunny to submission and tried to make it satisfied. I hope this works for ya'll-- kudos and comments always appreciated! I do have a few projects in the wings that will be posted soon but I am accepting prompts if anyone is looking for something special!
> 
> As always, i do not own SPN or the characters, I just like to hurt them.

* * *

_Carry on my wayward son—_

Previously on What You Don’t Know (Can’t Hurt You)

_Dean watched impassively as the witches’ body slumped to the floor before he lurched towards a table, and his overgrown brother tied on top. Blood was seeping down the sides of his bare chest as Cas struggled to release the ropes binding him._

_“Sam got himself cursed and Cas can’t heal ‘im. They’re in the infirmary now”_

_“There is no real fixing this Cassie—It’s in the deities’ hands now as to when he will release Sam from the promise forged. Roughly translating this curse is to uncover the darkest truths of those around the subject, feeding the God’s appetite for pain. In this case I’m guessing it’s more an internal pain than external.”_

_Sam holds his arm out wordlessly to Gabriel over the bowl, eyes locked firmly on the table between them. Gabriel barely hesitates as he grabs a knife and grips Sam’s wrist. He gives it a quick squeeze of reassurance then blood is split. It’s almost anticlimactic but the tension in the air intensifies as the plume of smoke curls towards the ceiling._

**_“Hello Loki-Gabriel—"_ **

* * *

It takes an embarrassingly long amount of time for the coherent hunters to locate the source of the deep female voice. It isn’t until Sam staggers away from the table, clutching his chest in pain, that Dean is able to see the shadowy form slightly behind Gabriel, hiding next to one of the bookcases. Dean rushes to Sam’s side as his brother doubles over in pain, his green eyes alight with a furious glow.

“Stop it, whatever you’re doing just stop it.” The figure barely twitches at his voice. Its whole focus narrowed in on Gabriel who is staring back silently. Dean can feel Sam’s clammy skin underneath his grip as he tries to support the flagging weight. Sam’s breathing begins to stutter in his chest as violent coughs force their way up his throat. A speckle of blood drips to the floor by Dean’s boot and he swallows hard.

“Please—please stop it—“. The Deity’s head cocks to the side, a macabre imitation of Cas’s expressiveness from ages ago. It seems to contemplate for a moment before Sam’s body sags in relief and Dean coaxes him into a chair. He kneels in front of his brother for a moment, using his hands to push the sweat damp hair from his face and check him for injuries. He leans forward slightly, feeling Sam’s huffing breath before whispering,

“Alright?” Sam nods incrementally and Dean gives him a gentle pat on the cheek before standing in a defensive position, guarding his brother from the unknown threat. Mary and Cas move to flank the chair on either side, a protective circle for the vulnerable family member. Gabriel has barely glanced away from the being in front of them, his hands deceptively hidden in his pockets. He’s standing unnaturally still, and it has the human’s skin itching in the unease growing in the room. Finally, he jerks his head in acknowledgement and gives the stranger a grimace of a smile.

“Hel, good to see you again.” Dean isn’t quite sure he’s caught on, so it’s a surprise when Sam’s rasping voice speaks up,

“Hel—as in your—as in Loki’s child?” There’s a steady glow coming from the Goddess’s face—from Hel’s face, and Dean is reminded of the YED and he’s suddenly wishing very strongly that he didn’t listen to Cas and had a stake with blood ready and willing to be put to work. She’s stepped forward into the light now, a long milky white leg emerging from behind the illusion of a blanket of darkness. Gabriel hasn’t acknowledged the other’s in the room yet, his eyes firmly fixated on the approaching being.

“What are you doing Hel—no, why are you?” The glow on her face increases and the humans are startled when she fully emerges into the light. Mary gasps, covering her mouth with her hand and Dean swallows hard.

\--To Hel’s eyes, it appears only Sam Winchester is unaffected by her appearance—

The half skeleton woman moves with grace as she paces towards Gabriel, her eye of fire swiveling between the 7 beings in the room. Her good eye—a warm chocolate brown—stays fixated on Gabriel however as she advances, a light of righteous anger blazing in her face.

“You really think that what you did would go unpunished!? The wounds you caused when you killed my brothers—when you killed my father? Their lives were not yours to TAKE!” Her voice reaches a crescendo screech as she stands toe-to-toe with Gabriel. Her skeletal hand is clenched in a tight fist and Dean can hear Sam grunting in pain again. His big brother instinct is warring with the hunter. He wants desperately to turn and help Sam ride out the pain, but he can’t turn his back on the unknown. Dean places his trust heavily in his mother and Cas to watch over Sammy.

“Too long you’ve been able to run around unchecked Loki-Gabriel. I may not be able to kill you, but I can make you feel the same pain I feel.” The fleshed hand with razor claws raises swiftly, extending towards Dean and he flinches on reflex. He waits for whatever wave of power she intends to toss their way but cringes instead when Cas’s gravelly voice rings out,

“Your presence has been a burden on my good conscience. I can’t look at you without remembering my failures and it makes me hate you.” Dean turns in time to see Cas turn his back in shame and for his mom to grip Sam’s shoulder painfully.

“Dean will always come first, he is my family, I don’t know who you are”. She snatches her hand away and Dean kneels in front of Sam, his eyes closed tightly as he clenches his fists. Little rivulets of blood from broken skin on his palms are staining his jeans.

“Sammy—” Dean’s heart is breaking. He’s watched Sam get beat down again and again—sometimes by his own hand—and now this. This useless vendetta for revenge. Sam’s shaking his head slowly, quick puffs of breath carry his simple prayer and if Dean thought he couldn’t feel anymore shattered, he was wrong.

“Please not Dean—please, please no. I can’t—please not Dean—“. Dean can feel the hot magma trying to force its way up. He can feel the curse trying to rip them a part and he’s just.not.having it.

Dean turns quickly and stalks up to Gabriel who hasn’t moved, who’s just staring at Hel with sad, vacant eyes. He easily steps around the useless squirt of an Archangel and stands toe-to-toe with the Goddess. His own blazing eyes of fury staring directly into hers.

“Listen up bitch. That man there is the only reason you and us, still exist on this god forsaken planet. Without him, you’d be dead. Whatever, grudge, you have against Gabriel—talk it out, duke it out, go have sex for all I care. Just leave Sam out.of.it. Otherwise you and I—we’re gonna have a problem”. He’s breathing heavily as she stares at him impassively. Her eye of fire ( _which creepy as hell when Dean looks back on it_ ) seems to simmer down to a steady ember as Dean refuses to budge. He’s not cocky enough to think she’s softening that quickly, and he braces for the backlash.

“I know you Dean Winchester. You and your brother. I know the sacrifices you’ve both made, but I also know your mistakes.” She leans slightly to the side, her vision clear to stare at Sam. “Your cage may have been of Christian design and purpose—but it resided with me in Niflheim. The ice and cold, exquisite darkness to remind me of my home.” She turns back to Dean before glancing at Gabriel.

“I know what price he’s paid by your hand Loki-Gabriel. I can see in your eyes the depth of your shame in what you forced the brothers to do. You cannot hide from this truth—” She slowly scans the room with her piercing gaze before slowly landing on Sam. “None of you can escape the truth.” Sam is staring back at her, a slight reverence on his features as he bows his head to her power. He stands slowly, waving off the supporting hands of Cas and Mary. Jack stands with him and gives Sam a curious look before stepping back and grabbing Mary’s hand for support. Sam raises his hands placatingly as he inches forward.

“You’re right Hel, you’re right. Gabriel took your family from you. You’ve seen more of the human soul than any Angel could hope to comprehend, and you saw me—in the cage—I know you did because—because I think I saw you too.” Gabriel’s head swivels quickly between the approaching hunter and Hel, his eyes a golden glow of suppressed grace and questions. Sam lowers his hands slowly to his sides and bows his head in acknowledgement of her position, the marks on his chest throbbing with pain.

“You want Gabriel to suffer, more than that, you want his family to suffer. You know my secrets. I used to whisper them to you through the bars of the cage. I know you could hear me. You took my secrets and held them close, protected them, even when I was so broken, I couldn’t recognize you anymore.” Her eyes do soften slightly now at Sam’s confession and the side of her face with flesh blushes slightly in embarrassment. Sam barely glances at her as he slowly kneels at her feet, his eyes downcast in submission and he hears Dean grunt his disapproval next to him. Sam continues persistently, his world focused on the Goddess in front of him holding his life in her hands.

“Gabr—Loki-Gabriel cause you a great disservice when he killed your family. But he did not do so by cowardly means. He brought them into open combat and defeated them fairly. They died a warrior’s death Hel—they returned home.” Sam hears her huff of air and pushes forward, hoping to stave off more pain. “It may not matter now, but it will—we can’t give you the death you seek Hel, but we know you need retribution. What boon can be offered in exchanged. What can Gab—what can I—do to even the scales?”

“Sammy no—”

“Quiet mortal”. Dean grunts and Sam notices form the corner of his eye, that he’s been shoved backward so Sam’s alone with Hel in front of him. The wispy black fabric of her dress tickles against his thighs where he’s kneeling. He doesn’t dare look up; eyes firmly placed on the tile floor between them. He feels the shift in air before noticing she’s bent at the waist, her lips ghosting along the shell of his ear with an intimate secret.

“I am a Goddess of Death, Sam Winchester, one of many in line to claim your soul for their own when you die. Your Christian God will have one hell of a fight to keep you once you pass. I am also a collector of truths.” She straightens again and Sam dares to glance up and stared into her face. Her cold gaze sending shivers down his back, but he refuses to look away.

“Provide me with one truth, just one, that breaks the heart of each of your family members—and I will consider Loki-Gabriel’s debt fulfilled.” She steps back and Sam closes his eyes slowly, ignoring the roll of tears as they escape their confines. He turns his head slightly, sensing his family behind him. Their unwavering strength teetering on the edge as they watch him closely. Sam opens his eyes and instantly finds Dean’s gaze. A million conversations happen in a split second, allowing Sam the strength to stand.

_I’m sorry Dean  
Don’t be sorry, be strong_

_  
I don’t know if I can  
I’ll help you_

_  
Promise?  
Always_

_Don’t hate me--  
Never—_

Sam looks to Gabriel, he can see the shame in his golden eyes, but he also see’s the resignation. The firming of resolve and preparation to do what he must when his first instinct is to run. Sam gives him a half a smile before looking back at Hel.

“One truth—then you’ll lift your curse and Loki-Gabriel’s debt is paid?” She merely nods, hands clasped in front of her, hidden under the long sleeves of her dress. Her fire eye twinkling and flame popping with barely held patience. Sam takes a deep sigh and turns back to his family.

This time he watches as the red tendrils swirl and grow around his own body before then strike, plunging deeply into his eyes and mouth. He barely grunts as an odd feedback wave crescendo’s over his senses. It almost feels like possession again, back when Meg surprised him at a rest stop and took his body for a spin. He’s detached but fascinated by the feeling of this unknown, but familiar entity infiltrating his mind. For a moment he’s curious what truth he will come up with himself—but Sam knows it’s no contest. There’s only one truth that could shatter the tenuous grip he has on his family. After all this, there’ll be no going back. He feels his spin straighten as he meets the gaze of his wary family head on. His eyes pass over their features one by one as he licks his lips before settling on Gabriel’s face. The air in his lungs burn as he expels his voice, the intent to harm and protect warring with itself as his hands tremble.

“I know-- I know I’m still in the cage. After all this, after all these years—I’ve never left, and I know Lucifer is just using this for his own entertainment until he grows bored again. I know all this because there is not salvation for a monster like me. I know how unwanted I am and I’m just patiently waiting for when this dream ends and I’m back on my rack with Lucifer laughing at me.”

His chest aches—no, his chest _burns_ and he grunts in pain before doubling over again. Sam clenches the gauze wrapped around his chest and tries to rip it from his body. ‘ _Get it off, get it off—Dean! Get it off, please!’_ He’s scratching at the medical tape and barely acknowledges the extra set of hands on him, trying to pull his hands from his chest.

“Sammy, Sam stop it! Sammy stop you’re gonna hurt yourself!” He barely hears his brother as another wave of pain washes over him and he howls loudly. He’s whimpering and his eyes are darting from Gabriel to Hel and back again. Either it was enough—or—

“It’s done. I consider the debt—mostly paid—” Hel turns towards Sam’s bent form, Dean’s possessive grip tightening ever so slightly on his shoulder.

“Sam Winchester, I will remember you for a long time. I look forward to your return.” Dean growls lowly in his throat and bares his teeth.

“Like hell bitch, I’ll rip your lungs out if you ever go near him again.” Hel barely glances his way before she turns and melds back into the shadows surrounding the library.

For a short time the only noise around them is Sam’s harsh breathing. Cas has removed the gauze carefully and they watch as the horrid red marks heal back to unblemished skin. Gabriel has his head bowed and eyes closed when he clears his throat.

“Well—all in all that could have gone much worse—”. Dean is lunging at him before anyone tracks his movements. His hands are fisted in the short man’s stupid shirt and he physically snarls as he shakes the Angel violent.

“Don’t—just don’t Gabriel—” The Archangel nods slowly and gently removes Dean’s prying fingers.

“I know Dean—I’m sorry—” Gabriel glances at the rest of the family before settling on Sam’s pale form. He can see the younger hunter swaying on his feet, eyes at half mast as he stares off into space. Gabriel looks back at Dean’s furious gaze, green eyes burning with unconcealed rage and worry. “I’m so—so sorry—“. In a blink he’s gone, the air popping in Dean’s ears and he grumbles lowly under his breath. He is in desperate need of a drink—a strong one—and a few weeks of quiet solitude. He turns back to Sam and eases his grip under his little brother’s shoulders, supporting his weight easily.

“C’mon little brother—let’s get you to bed—” Sam’s shaking in his grip and it takes longer than normal to maneuver the giant man into Dean’s room. It takes even longer for the normally smart hunter to track what’s happening around him and he turns a questioning gaze on Dean as he’s eased onto the memory foam mattress.

“Dean? What’re you doin’?” Dean pulls back the covers from under Sam’s shaking body and scoots in next to him. His arms come around and pull his unresisting brother into his embrace.

“It’s called sleeping Sammy—we should be doing it.” Dean can feel the questions burning in Sam’s mind and shushes him quietly. “Hush Sam—it’s alright— I’m here little brother. I’ll always be here. I know the past day or so has been like Hell—literally in a way—but I’m not goin’ anywhere little brother. You got me for as long as you want me.” It takes a few minutes of quiet before Dean hears Sam’s quiet voice whisper in the darkness,

“Promise?”

Dean squeezes him tightly, words escaping him at the vulnerable tone in his brother’s voice. Yeah there’s been some real shitty blows lately, and with their family luck, the blows will keep on coming. There are some long past due conversations to be had, some reassurances needed for all parties involved. Dean was still pissed at Gabriel’s drama finding its way to their doorstep. He’s still pissed at Mom and Cas, and mostly himself for the barbed darkness they injured his little brother with.

And he’s worried, ah hell is he worried. For Sam to admit he still thinks he’s in the cage—to think his life has been nothing but one long torture for a sadistic Arch angel—there was a lot of work ahead of them, but for now—

“Yeah Sammy—I promise—"


End file.
